


Soul of Wit

by stifledlaughter



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Bad Pick-Up Lines, Cheesy, Drunken Shenanigans, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 01:12:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3099455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian works up enough (liquid) courage to try his terrible pick-up lines on Garak. Nothing goes according to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul of Wit

**Author's Note:**

> I saw a tumblr post asking for a fic where Julian hits on Garak using the cheesy pick-up lines he uses on women. This is what happened. 
> 
> I apologize that this is terribly OOC and cheesy. It was stuck in my head for days and I had to get it out there. All lines from various internet websites.

“I got this… I got this…” Julian peered into his synthale and asked, “Do you think I got this?”

The synthale had no reply.

“Drat,” muttered Julian, and he upended the rest of the drink. “Quark, another!”

“It’s Friday night at 18:00 and you’re already four drinks in?” Quark slid him a root beer, side-eying the row of glasses in front of the doctor. “Either you’re already resigned to a lonely night or working up the nerve to talk to a certain someone. Either way, have this disgusting hoo-man drink to take a break for a second and try not to throw up on my floor. Rom just cleaned it and I don’t want to have to waste the time telling him how to do it again.”

“Thanks, Quark,” said Julian, trying to figure out how to wrap his fingers around the root beer without accidentally plunging them in. _Oh! Around the sides! Not from the top! That’s how hands work._ Julian was momentarily proud of himself, and then realized that that wasn’t something he ought to be proud of. Perhaps he shouldn’t have had so many, at least not before-

“My dear doctor, I see you started without me,” remarked Garak, appearing behind Julian silently, per usual. The Cardassian took note of the emptied synthales in front of the doctor and frowned. “Hm, terrible day at the infirmary, I assume? And I’ll have one kanar, Quark,” he added to the Ferengi.

“Not at all!” Julian spun in his chair to face Garak and momentarily risked falling victim to physics. “Come, sit!” He waved his hands a bit aimlessly in the air, trying to transmit his excitement of seeing Garak through physical cues. That’s how he was supposed to do it, right? _Perhaps I am a bit far gone… but I needed a bit of liquid courage for this…_

Garak slid into the stool next to Julian and glanced over him, a smile quirking at his lips. “You’re being particularly… energetic, Doctor.” He took a sip of the kanar that Quark placed in front of him, his eyes flickering over Julian.

“I have to be, I’ve been trying this all the wrong ways, and I decided, well, I’m going to do it the way I’ve always done it, right, because if at first you don’t succeed, do what you always did to succeed before-“ Julian flailed a bit at that last bit, why were these words coming out of his mouth so badly, he tilted his head down, frowning, this did not bode well-

Garak very gently placed a hand on Julian’s shoulder. “Doctor, are you alright?” His eyes, behind the usual mask of sarcasm and guile, were sincerely concerned. “Is there something you need to tell me?”

Julian looked up, and his face was set in stern resolve. “Yes. I have a question.”

Garak nodded. “Go on?”

Julian inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, swaying in the chair. “Did it hurt?”

“Excuse me?”

Julian opened his eyes and met Garak’s gaze directly, voice dead serious. “ _When you hit the fucking ground?”_

Garak stared, dumbfounded. Julian kept staring at Garak, and then suddenly gasped, slapping his palm to his forehead. “Bollocks! Dammit! I did it wrong! How could I fuck it up, I’ve been practicing for an hour-“

“I didn’t fall anywhere- Doctor, what is going on-“

“No! No! I have to do this now. This is how I’ve always gotten the others, one sentence and they were hooked, and you, I give you hundreds of sentences, and it doesn’t work- but this-“ He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. “No! No, this one. Yes, this one works.” He met Garak’s gaze again and asked, “You’re 65% water. And I’m-“ he paused for dramatic effect – “ _thirsty._ ”.

Julian could tell by Garak’s extremely bemused expression that his pick-up lines were not having the desired effect. Garak leaned forward and pushed some of Julian’s curls off of his forehead, feeling the sweat there. “Thirsty? No more drinks – you need some water, you must be dehydrated. Quark-“

“No, no, you see, it’s wordplay – if you’re made of water, it means I want to drink _you-_ oh _God_ if I’m _explaining_ the pick-up line, I must have really fucked it up-“

Quark, who was observing this whole thing from a safe distance of about four barstools away, slid over to Garak and whispered, “You might want to take him back to his quarters. He’s been like this for a bit now. Bad for business, you know.”

“Of course,” murmured Garak, taking ahold of Julian’s arm. “Come now, dear Doctor, let’s move along elsewhere.”

Julian acquiesced, stammering odd phrases (“Are those space pants? Because your ass is out of this _world”_ ) but dutifully following Garak. They made it to the habitat ring without incident, but when Julian realized they were going to his quarters, he stopped walking.

“No, Garak! I’m not done!”

“Honestly, my dear, I’m quite confused as to what you’re actually trying to do…”

_I need the perfect pick-up line right now, one that actually works for him…_ He racked his brain, trying to find the perfect line for Garak, and then smiled hugely, realizing what it was. He grabbed Garak’s hand and pulled it to his uniform, pushing the fingers together to grasp a bit of the sleeve. “Garak. Last question. What kind of fabric is this?”

Garak raised an eye ridge but went along with it. “Replicated cotton, if I’m not mistaken. Why do you ask?”

Julian shook his head. “No. It’s _boyfriend material_.” He looked up and grinned at Garak, who then, after a pausing second, realized what was going on.

“This is some sort of Terran mating ritual, isn’t it? Short, humorous wordplay to attract a mate’s attention?”

“Brevity is the soul of wit,” quoted Julian, finally happy that Garak understood his intent. “Well? Did it work?”

Garak looked over Julian, drunk, giggly, and completely, unfairly, adorable. He sighed, and for once, went with honesty. “I suppose… that last one was a rather amusing pun, if I must admit.”

Julian laughed and clapped his hands together, the left missing the right slightly in his drunkenness.  “Can I try the rest on you? I want to see which ones work for you.”

“If you must…”

“Do you happen to have a dermal regenerator? I skinned my knee when I fell for you. Oh, wait no, this one – I’m a doctor, and I do believe you’re lacking Vitamin Me!”

“Are these all going to be medically themed?”

“No, no, I got some other ones… Hm… Ah! Perhaps I need to report you to Odo for theft, Garak!”

“Whatever for?”

“You seem to have stolen my heart!”

Garak looked at the eager, giddy, tipsy doctor, and smiled. “It was only to replace the one you took from me, my dear doctor.”

Julian abruptly shut up, and then his mouth opened, gaping, incredulous. “What- wait- hold on- you’ve only known about Terran pick up lines for two minutes and already beat me at it?”

“You ought to know better than to ever try to best a Cardassian at wordplay, Doctor Bashir…”


End file.
